


one, two

by sujiverse



Series: twice's slam dunk [4]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, young love with a sprinkle of teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 17:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13195224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sujiverse/pseuds/sujiverse
Summary: where nayeon makes a huge mistake





	one, two

**Author's Note:**

> tw: minor self-harm

  
20.

They paint the house in various shades of the sunset, and highlight the walls with streaks of pastel pink stretching across the horizon. She's excited to move into her new home.

 

Their home.

 

8.

"She has bangs now, and her hair's tied up in a high ponytail."

 

Nayeon grunts. The air in the locker room is still, and she hears her teammates go silent at the remark. _Fake bitches, as if they're trying not to listen._

 

"Hey, you good to go? I could tell Coach you're not feeling well-"

 

"No, no. I'm okay, I won't let something this small stop me from playing," She hisses through her teeth, and Jeongyeon should have seriously considered shutting her mouth right there, but she doesn't.

 

"Your ex is not 'something small', Nayeon." Jeongyeon says in a low tone, deadly serious.

 

She glares, and clenches her teeth. But her chin trembles, almost giving her act away. Although, Jeongyeon gulps and backs away, mistaking her legitimate fear for unfounded anger.

 

 _Jeongyeon's a coward,_ she thinks.

 

(Nayeon knows she herself is a hypocrite.)

 

9.

Tzuyu gives her a hug. Jihyo knows it should mean something, because Tzuyu never hugs anyone, but she can't think about that now that she's literally minutes away from walking out to face her ex.

 

For weeks, she was convinced that she had moved on from Nayeon. She was doing well, she became the captain of the freshman team, her grades were good, she made so many new friends, made so much progress. But now, she can't think of anything but how much she misses her eyes, her singing, her smile, oh god, she had the prettiest smile.

 

"I'll be there with you on court, don't worry," Tzuyu says it so softly that she almost misses it.

 

"Of course you will be. I'm fine, you are the one who shouldn't worry!" She laughs, and Tzuyu forces a smile.

 

She knows her act has been thoroughly dissected, she just hopes the taller girl doesn't point it out.

 

(Because it's the only way she can cling onto some semblance of sanity without having fits at the mention of her name.

 

If she'd moved on like she convinced herself she had, why was she here, with half of her being aching to run out and see her, and the other half so horribly wanting to stay in the locker room forever?)

 

10.

Break-ups are stupid. Relationships are stupid. They only bring pain and awkwardness. It's fucking terrible.

 

Jeongyeon knows that because she sees her childhood best friend stride onto the court with an artificial glamour only she can pull off. She's trying to show off how well she's been doing without her for the past six months.

 

And failing at it, miserably so.

 

Behind the purposeful strutting and loud, obnoxious laughter, she watches how Nayeon glances once in a while, subtly, at the other team, at Jihyo. She sees her trembling hands, even though it's summer and the gym is terribly humid. She takes one look at Nayeon's untied shoelaces and knows she didn't just forget to tie them on purpose.

 

She definitely hasn't moved on.

 

  
4.

Jihyo's words are on loop in her mind. She recognises the look of determination, and she knows Jihyo meant every word she said.

 

"I won't go if you don't."

 

Funny how just six words can change your life, huh?

 

Nayeon's hands tremble as she opens the envelope from Yonsei University. She takes a deep breath, and resigns to looking at the peeling grey paint and mouldy walls of her home. She will never be able to afford going there without a scholarship.

 

That day, Nayeon realises three things:

 

One, that the impact the six words "we regret to inform you that" can have on someone's life is overly understated.

 

Two, that the world isn't fair, even to people who work their hardest.

 

And three, that she'll do anything to make sure Jihyo gets only the best, even if it means breaking her heart.

 

Six fucking words.

 

11.

Jihyo doesn't so much as try to look at her opponents.

 

She does the usual cheering, shouting instructions for drills, directing the warm up routine, and gathering her team for the pre-game huddle.

 

_Okay, just focus on the game, not her._

 

_The game, not her._

 

Easier said than done, because her coach bursts the bubble she created for herself in less than a second into the huddle.

 

"Coach, I can take her today."

 

"No, you're a center Tzuyu. Stay in the paint. Jihyo will be fine, right?"

 

What almost happens: Jihyo screams that no, she's not fucking fine with having to grapple with her ex for the whole game. Fuck no!

 

What does happen: Jihyo says, "Yeah, I'm fine." She hears Tzuyu sigh, and mentally steels herself for a stressful, probably even torturous 40 minutes ahead.

 

They're going to lose if she doesn't get her shit together. She can't let that happen. Not today, not because of Im Nayeon.

 

She braces herself for tipoff, and almost chickens out when she sees her, walking onto court with a glare that's focused on nobody in particular. Jihyo notices the red hair, the new ear piercings, the Glow. It's like Im Nayeon came out to send her a message. She's doing well without her.

 

She should have seen right through it. They have known each other for six long years after all. This is exactly what overcompensation looks like.

 

 

Jihyo notices everything but the fact that Nayeon has her pastel pink wristband on, not on her wrist but her ankle this time, and forces herself to smile at her, pretending that she feels nothing for the girl whom she once thought was the prettiest in the world.

 

She does the only thing she knows to do at the sight of Nayeon. She smiles.

 

(Jihyo catches herself realising that she still thinks Nayeon's the prettiest girl in the world, when Nayeon finally flashes a small smile back.)

 

1.

"What's this?" Nayeon inspects the pink wristband that has the letters "JH" carved out in the middle.

 

"Metal rings rust and gemstones lose their shine, but silicone stays perfect for our entire lifetime. It won't decompose before we do. It's for you to keep till forever," Jihyo holds up her own matching orange one while she explains, her goofy smile never leaving her face. "And it was like, four bucks."

 

"A silicone wristband? You're such a nerdy romantic," Nayeon cringes, but softens at the disappointment clear on Jihyo's face. "My nerdy romantic. Don't you dare pull this on anyone else!"

 

"Okay," she had softly replied, melting into the hug.

 

12.

Nayeon knows the game is not going to be easy, it never was from the moment she heard Jihyo was playing.

 

She sees the smile she had missed so, so much and hesitates before smiling back, but doesn't look for more than a second (she might spontaneously combust if she did) at the girl who has't left her mind for a moment since they broke up.

 

It's obvious that the girl's defensive assignment for the night is her, and she knows she's royally fucked from the moment Jihyo hesitantly bodies her up for tipoff.

 

How is she supposed to focus when all she's all she remembers, all she sees, all she feels?

 

 _Hi, you look awesomesauce_ , she wants to say. She can almost hear her laughter at that ridiculous statement.

 

They win the tipoff and the ball is passed to her. Nayeon dribbles the ball, and there Jihyo was, attempting to swipe away the ball. She picks up her dribble to protect it, and passes it away before she loses the ball (and her sanity as well).

 

She has never detested the game of basketball more in that moment.

 

3.

"Tip from the number two high school prospect in the nation: look into your defender's eyes. Read their movements. Intimidate them. Force them to go left when you're in fact going right. Distract them with your pretty face, and then blow right by them."

 

"Pretty face? That should be really easy for you," Jihyo teases her.

 

"And you as well. You're going to do so well in Yonsei, charming and then dropping defenders left and right." Nayeon laughs.

 

"Is that how you seduced me, by looking into my eyes? Are you actually a succubus? Or a vixen?" Her cheeky reply warrants them a good laugh, before it descends into comfortable silence. Jihyo shoots the ball she has in her hands and it goes up in a perfect arc, and swishes through the net easily. So much for _Defensive_ Player of the Year...

 

"Wait but if you're number two, does that mean..."

 

"That Jeongyeon's number one? Yeah!" Nayeon says it with such affirmation that Jihyo almost believes her. She slumps, pouts and crosses her arms like the adorable brat only Nayeon knows she is.

 

"You doofus, of course it's you," She hears as arms snake around her waist from behind. "It's always been you."

 

Jihyo has a feeling Nayeon means something else.

 

 _I don't want to go_ , she had mumbled into her shoulder as she turned around to hug her properly.

 

 _You have to_ , the girl had replied, with eyes that she had come to love gleaming with unshed tears. _I love you_.

 

Who would have known that that would be the last day she would ever hear Nayeon say that?

 

13.

It's a new experience for her guarding someone so passive.

 

Usually, Jihyo is tasked to defend the opposing team's best player. She uses her eyes to strike fear in opponents. She would stare into their eyes, surprise them, mock them. Make them pick up the ball and stop them from advancing. She has made even the best players pass the ball off to a teammate in fear of having it poked away. She has stolen the ball away from even the fastest of guards, and blocked shots made by the tallest of centers.

 

But today, her eyes are trained on the jersey of the player she has to guard. The number 9 stares back into her face, mocking her. _It was always her lucky number._ She just can't bear to look anywhere else- not her face, not her hands, definitely not her eyes.

 

She misses chances to intercept the ever predictable passes Nayeon makes, watches her do a front crossover over and over again without attempting to even touch the ball. Time and time again, Nayeon gets the ball and they dance around each other, neither advancing nor retreating.

 

2.

"If you do that front crossover again I swear I would take the ball away from you. Have some creativity!" Jihyo laughs, wheezing the words out of her lungs.

 

"You're just saying that because you don't want your ankles broken by me, sore loser!" Nayeon chimes back.

 

Sure enough, she tries the front crossover again and Jihyo just snatches the ball away from her mid-air, like a really strong magnet pulling a piece a steel right into its magnetic trap. Jihyo deftly turns and sinks the shot before Nayeon even has time to put her hands up. So she screams instead, remembering Jihyo's philosophy of "noise equals defense".

 

"You told me it works!"

 

"Yeah, but only when I scream. People aren't terrified of you, babe."

 

They spend the rest of the day lying on the cool hardwood, laughing their asses off, tangled up with each other and not giving a rat's ass about how it would look if the janitor entered and stumbled upon them.

 

14.

It's almost the end of the third quarter before Nayeon scores her first basket. It's not her first try of course, because she had easily driven by Jihyo on a few attempts, but had been struck with the wall that was Chou Tzuyu all the times she had tried to enter the paint. No doubt the girl was doing it on purpose.

 

2 points for the whole game. Nayeon shakes her head while running back on defense.

 

It's not a good look for her- the Star Player, the apple of her coach's eye, the genius playmaker, faltering in front of an underperforming defensive ace.

 

And it's not a good look for Jihyo either- the captain, the defensive anchor, an on court kryptonite, reduced to a harmless swipe or two and a couple of missed interceptions.

 

(They once were the best offensive player and the best defensive player on their own little dream team. They were also once made for each other, but now they're just broken pieces, one half of a whole.)

 

Nayeon feels the light-headedness and plays it off as fatigue. She forgets that she hasn't eaten in three whole days anticipating this matchup. Never mind that her vision is blurry after a particular play, where Tzuyu knocks the wind out of her while she was trying to score a layup.

 

The referees don't catch it. She gets up and returns on defense, never protesting the no-call even though her teammates are yelling on her behalf.

 

She deserves it, she thinks.

 

5.

"I'll come back on weekends. Yonsei isn't that far from here."

 

_No, it's half a day's drive away from here you idiot._

 

"I'm so sorry, this is so unfair to you. I'm really sorry, please, please forgive me. I never should have taken the offer."

 

She cannot believe what she's hearing. She holds back a sob, and nearly drops her phone. She pinches herself, and purses her lips tighter. The girl she fell in love with is an angel, through and through.

 

"Nayeon, talk to me please." She hears her plead for the first time in her life. Jihyo doesn't deserve this.

 

This IS the only way. It's all for the best.

 

"Please tell me that me going to college won't come between you and I, please." She hears sobs, and has to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying anything.

 

"Nayeon, I can't live without you-"

 

_Yes, you can, and you will. You deserve so much more than this. You deserve more than me._

 

She never got to say that, because her thumb presses the red button long before her heart wanted it to, and the call ends. There's a harsh "beep" before the line goes cold, and then everything goes quiet.

 

She tucks her head into her knees and lets it all overwhelm her.

 

15.

The game finally ends, and Jihyo's team wins because of her teammates who pick up the slack on the offensive end. A measly 6 point win and 34 total points scored?

 

Jihyo's just glad it's over.

 

She has way too much to apologise for. The sloppy passes, messy defensive schemes, predictable offense... But she can't hang her head now, not while Nayeon can still see her.

 

They have to shake hands, and Jihyo swears Nayeon lingers a second more than she's supposed to. She wills herself to look up, and she sees Nayeon looking at her with an unreadable expression.

 

Her heart leaps, and the brief, familiar feeling of butterflies is instantly replaced by the distress of a thousand unanswered questions, and the pain of crying herself to sleep for three whole months.

 

The tension, it's almost tangible. She feels thousands of needles in the air, and she can't stop them from stinging her everywhere: on her skin, in her lungs, at the back of her throat, through her veins. She feels the pain swell to a peak in that moment, and she's suddenly not sure if it ever stopped.

 

She averts her eyes till the very end, and all she wants to do is run back to the locker room because can't stand the cruel onslaught of memories.

 

(She remembers the pre-game encouragements and post-game hugs. It feels like yesterday they were playing and winning on the same team, their dream team. She feels the nerves and the butterflies again, the kisses between breaks of their own private practise sessions, the cold floor of the gym Nayeon lays her down on before collapsing onto her in fits of laughter, the unadulterated happiness every damn day. It was them, Nayeon and Jihyo, against the world.

 

She remembers the last time Nayeon told her she loved her, and the first she told her she didn't.

 

She can't just pretend that she's fine. She's not strong enough for this. Neither of them are.)

 

She bolts for the washroom with a flimsy excuse and an instruction for Tzuyu to not follow.

 

6.

"I don't love you, okay? I never will and never did," Nayeon tenses as she hears the words spill (no, spit) out from her own mouth.

 

It's harsher than she rehearsed it to be, but she guesses that it's even better this way.

 

"You're a fucking liar. You can't say that after all we've been through.You know I don't believe you, Nayeon."

 

_Six whole years and I only realised I loved you in the last one. Father Time is too cruel._

 

_I'm so sorry._

 

"Well, then you're wrong. Grow up, Jihyo. College isn't a daycare centre. No one will be there to babysit you like I did."

 

She doesn't wait for a reaction but she knows, from the ugly sounds that ricochet in the empty gym and etch themselves in her mind forever, that she, Im Nayeon, has shattered Park Jihyo's pure, crystal heart into smithereens.

 

She shakily speed walks out of the gym and manages to sprint to the washroom clumsily before the tears stream down her face. She nearly breaks the door to the cubicle when she slams and locks it.

 

She shoves her fist into her mouth, and bites down hard, suppressing her screams. The blood spilling out of her knuckles barely enough to distract her from the sheer agony inside. Her heart threatens to burst out of her chest, to run to Jihyo, to tell her she didn't mean anything she said. To hold her hand again, to hug her, to tell her she- she _loves_ her.

 

She's pretty sure she vomits at some point. She never deserved Jihyo, and never will.

 

_She'll probably never want see me again._

 

It's that thought kills her the most. As her body stays planted to the cold, white tiles of the washroom floor, her bloody knuckles stains it a horrific crimson in the shape of a broken heart.

 

16.

She hears someone stumble into the cubicle next to her after a while. Her breath hitches, afraid to be found out.

 

They close the door, and Jihyo winces when it slams hard.

 

It's hard to stay quiet. Her throat is hoarse from the sobbing, and her nose is a leaking faucet. She's a fucking mess.

 

She hears the retching, the sound of fists against the floor, the sniffle before a long and meaningful silence.

 

_I'm sorry sad person, the pain will go away soon._

 

_(Even if mine never did.)_

 

Her own thoughts consume her momentarily, and she readies herself to get back out there to face her team. Tzuyu must be getting worried, after all.

 

Then she sees it, a bleeding hand stretching over from the cubicle next to her. She screams in shock and absolute horror.

 

But that wristband clenched in her fist, she'll recognise it anywhere.

 

When the echoes of her screams filter out, the silence is frighteningly deafening. She frantically lets herself out of her own cubicle, and knocks on the door next to hers repeatedly, screaming hoarsely for the very person that haunts her in her scariest nightmares and sweetest dreams.

 

7.

It's for the best, it's for the best, it's for her, it's always for the best.

 

She repeats it like a mantra every day of her life, and she nearly believes it.

 

Like a watchful eye or an obsessive stalker, she follows her every move over Instagram. It's like she was there when she moved out of her neighbourhood, went to Yonsei for the first time, made new friends, joined a new basketball team, made a new life without her. She forces herself to smile.

 

_See? She's doing great without you._

 

Herself? Not so much. She's got her own place in a college nearby, and Jeongyeon's going too. They have a decent basketball programme and she reckons the more she thrusts herself headfirst into training, the less she will think of her.

 

Nayeon even dyes her hair.

 

She thumbs the carved initials on the pastel pink wristband, and contemplates taking it off. She never has the courage to, even after six months. A thought that never leaves her mind is that when she takes it off, she'll lose her and a piece of herself forever. So she wears it like a Horcrux carrying a piece of her soul. It got too painful to see it constantly, so she puts it around her ankle instead. Out of sight, out of mind, but not really. The pastel pink abomination, she feels, is constantly eating away at her conscience, content only after she wastes away into nothingness. It's enough guilt to last her three lifetimes.

 

But she reckons if she lets it be, soon enough, the excruciating pain she feels in her heart when she wakes up to an empty bed will dull to an ache.

 

17.

Jihyo jolts awake at the memory of the love of her life bent over the toilet seat in her vomit-stained jersey, unconscious, bloodied hands splayed across the floor. She checks her surroundings, and sees something nearly as terrifying: Nayeon lying on the hospital bed strapped to an IV, her left hand bandaged.

 

It's the lesser of two evils, she supposes. At least Nayeon's not in any mortal danger, not anymore.

 

She fiddles with the pink piece of silicone the doctors had passed to her, and thinks about how silly it must have looked to the outsider, when she put it onto Nayeon's wrist for her many moons ago. But not to Nayeon. She discovers a little scribble at the back, Jihyo's own name written in black Sharpie ink, followed by a shaky, poorly drawn heart.

She reaches into her backpack to retrieve her own wristband. The one she carried with her everywhere but never had the courage to wear. She examines the perfectly carved "NY", and smiles at the memory of herself, going out and getting those wristbands made on impulse.

 

An unfamiliar feeling fills her heart for the first time in a long while. She recognises it as love, and something that resembles hope. She wears both wristbands on her right hand for safekeeping.

 

Hers is sunset orange, and Nayeon's is pastel pink. She laughs softly, because even when she felt the colours never did go very well together, the two of them did.

 

She hears Nayeon's voice in her head, and feels her speaking against her lips. "It's a happy colour when you put it together. It reminds me of you. I like it."

 

Her heart feels warm, like when she used to watch the sunset with Nayeon on the roof of their high school. Nayeon reminds her of how it feels like to love again, and she likes it.

 

"I like you a lot, Im Nayeon," Jihyo would say.

 

"You're awesomesauce, Park Jihyo," she would have replied.

 

Jihyo repositions herself in the uncomfortable armchair, resting her head on the palm of Nayeon's uninjured hand, and prays that Nayeon will be awake when she is.

 

She's not letting her go this time. And she's going to make sure Nayeon hears that loud and clear.

 

18.

"I still like you a lot, Im Nayeon," Jihyo suddenly says, on the third day after she gets discharged from the hospital. It's Jihyo's third visit to her house in three days.

 

She stayed. Jihyo stayed. Nayeon thinks of all the things she could say in that moment, and nothing comes as close as an "I still love you" and "I'm sorry for being an idiot".

 

"You still are awesomesauce," she wants to reply. She'd imagined it would get a small, nostalgic smile from Jihyo, but it's not what she wants to hear, not like this.

 

"I made a huge mistake six months ago," Nayeon starts. "I still like you a lot too. I'm so-"

 

She never gets to apologise, because Jihyo shushes her and just holds her instead, mumbling I understand, I understand, I understand, into her shoulder.

 

She's sobbing before she knows it, and holds Jihyo closer to her.

 

19.

Nayeon finds out that half a day's drive every Saturday, is nothing compared to half a year of heartache.

 

(Slowly but surely, they help to piece each other back together, pastel pink building blocks mixed with the warm hues of sunset. It's a happy colour, and that's all that matters.)

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> nahyo a power couple,,, greedy snatched my weave and never gave it back also happy belated birthday sana baby you're not even in the fic but i love you so much pls get some rest on ur private jet


End file.
